Don't Lose Your Towel, Dixon
by Haitus80
Summary: Now that they are safe behind the walls things aren't as good as they used to be. Daryl is distant and Carol is tired of fighting with him. Once she decides that it's time to move out, he's forced to finally explain what is going on with him. Unfortunately for him, he has to do this wearing nothing but a towel and a blush, because what's a Caryl story without some awkwardness?


**I wrote this for Halohunter89's "Spring" challenge. I started it, then I got preoccupied and forgot all about it and then I just remembered it today. Anyway, hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading!**

_**Don't Lose Your Towel, Dixon**_

It was raining and he still wasn't back from his hunt. He didn't even need to hunt but that didn't seem to matter. He always made up excuses to get away. They made this arrangement out of convenience. They lived together but it wasn't what a lot of people thought. They slept in separate rooms but some of the residents actually thought that they were married. She didn't correct them because she knew he went out of his way to not get too close to most of them and if the women thought he wasn't available then that was a perk. Not that anyone was interested. They would be but he scowled a lot and he was usually covered in a layer of protective dirt. Most women shied away from men like that. She knew he was harmless but they didn't.

She glanced out the back door again and relief washed through her when she saw his form approaching the back door in the dark. The relief was brief, giving way to irritation.

The ass.

He could have gotten back before dark and well before the rain. She thought he did this to get away from her specifically so she was going to talk to him about that tonight. There were smaller places out there. They didn't have to take up a two bedroom house and she was starting to wonder why the hell they were still staying here.

"You're late," she grumbled, her arms crossed as she moved so he could get past her.

He huffed and propped the crossbow up by the door. He tracked mud across the kitchen, shedding his vest and aiming to drape it over the kitchen chair but missing. It hit the floor with a soggy flop. He didn't bother to pick it up either. He just walked right through the doorway to the living room.

She rolled her eyes. "You're tracking mud all over the carpet!" She called after him as she picked up the vest and hung it on the nail by the door. Biting her tongue she followed after him. "I cooked dinner," she muttered, wincing when he flounced down on the couch in his wet pants.

"You always cook dinner. You're kinda predictable like that," he said in a low voice, glancing up at her as he untied his boot, that was now propped up on the coffee table.

"Well, are you going to eat any of it?" She asked, unsure why she couldn't stop snapping at him. She grimaced as she watched the rain dripping from his hair and make a trail through the dirt on his neck.

He shook his head. "I ate earlier."

Hands on her hips she scowled. "What do you mean you ate earlier? Where?"

He sighed and leaned back. "Out in the woods. Caught a squirrel. Got hungry. Ate it before I came home."

"So I cooked for nothing?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Did you eat?" He asked, shaking rain from his overgrown hair.

"Yes."

"Then you didn't cook for nothin' then."

She turned on her heel and marched back to the kitchen to clean up the mess on the floor. Sometimes living with him was like living with a child. He was messy. And here lately he was also distant and gruff and she wasn't sure why. When he became distant and gruff she became snappy and then he would leave.

Once the floor was clean again she went back to the living room but he wasn't there. He was probably already in his room, where he retreated quickly most nights. It was obvious that he wasn't happy here. She needed to tell him that tomorrow she was planning on talking to Rick about both of them moving to different places. He was self reliant and so was she and there was no reason to stay in the same house if they barely got along anymore. She would rather have her friend back than have a grumpy roommate.

Most nights she left him alone. Actually, every night she left him alone, but tonight she wasn't waiting. The more she thought about how he'd been acting the angrier it made her. She was going to go pack up her meager belongings and tell him that in the morning she was moving out. He would have a whole house to himself and wouldn't have to worry about hiding in his room or in the woods. She would be doing them both a favor. It had been fun at first but now she hated it. She missed him and it sucked because he was right there.

She went to the bathroom, deciding that a quick hot shower would ease some of her tension and prepare her for her confrontation. Not that she expected him to put up a fight but she didn't want to seem angry. She just wanted to say what she needed to say and then go about her business. Of course, when she turned the water on, nothing happened. The pipes groaned but no water came out.

Maybe she would miss him but she wouldn't miss all the grief this house seemed to give them more often than not. She stormed out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen. She had seen Daryl bang on the pipes with a hammer and get them going again so that's what she would do. When she stepped into the kitchen he was standing there, a bowl in his hand. He looked up guiltily.

"What? It smelled good," he muttered, sucking gravy from his fingers.

She gave him a tight smile and then brushed past him so she could get to the drawer that the hammer was in. He moved away like she had tried to set him on fire. She rolled her eyes but didn't comment. She didn't even let it hurt anymore. She didn't care if the thought of touching her had him jumping away. Let him jump.

"What are you doin'?"

"I'm moving out in the morning," she said suddenly, standing up straight with the hammer in her hand. She hadn't even meant to bring it up just yet but him recoiling from her, not for the first time, was the last damn straw. She cared about him too much to let him stay miserable.

"What?" He scowled.

"You aren't happy. I'm not happy. It doesn't make any sense to stay here," she said, stepping past him. There, that wasn't so bad. She didn't think that saying it out loud would sting quite this much but it needed to be done. She was about to shut the bathroom door behind her but he was pushing it open, crowding her into the small space, his face angry.

"What the hell is this about?" He demanded.

She took a steadying breath and met his eyes. "It's about me trying to salvage the most important relationship I have."

His scowl deepened. "By movin' out on me? What the fuck?" He grabbed the hammer from her and slammed it down on the sink.

"Oh stop it," she snapped. "You hate this and I know it. Stop pretending like I'm not doing us both a favor."

"Where the hell did this come from? Is this cause I got mud on the carpet cause that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"No, it isn't about the mud on the carpet. It's about you staying gone until all hours of the night. We barely even speak anymore and I swear if I get within six inches of you you climb the walls to get away from me. That's what this is about. I want you back and living with you isn't the way to do that. I miss being your friend, Daryl. So I'm doing something about it."

"That's bullshit! I'm out more because it's warmer and I like to be out. What the hell am I suppose to do? Stay home all day? Follow you around while you do... whatever the fuck you do here?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Would you please get out so I can take a shower and go to bed? It's been a long evening."

He glared at her, a muscle in his jaw bulging. "Okay. Do whatever the fuck you wanna do."

A hot white flash of anger shot through her then. How in the hell could he be so angry at her? He always seemed angry at her so why was the prospect of them not living together making him even more mad. "Why are you acting like such a jack ass!" She yelled right before he left the room.

He stiffened and then turned, his eyes narrowed. "Maybe because you're actin' like a frosty bitch!"

Her mouth dropped open and she had to tighten her grip on the hammer to keep from throwing it at him. "Just get out. Go hide in your bedroom like you always do," she growled, moving over and hitting the wall where she knew the pipe ran.

"I'd rather hide in my room than listen to you bitch about every damn thing I do. Give me the hammer, you don't know what you're doin'."

"Go to hell," she snapped, hitting the wall again.

She heard him growl and then suddenly the hammer was yanked out of her grip and he stepped all the way into the tub, his eyes flashing like he was daring her to try to take it from him. She wanted too but he was stronger than her. "I can do it myself. I don't need you fixing things for me."

"Well, I don't need you cookin' my damn meals."

"Well, I don't need you... for anything."

He growled and hit the wall hard, the pipe groaned and then suddenly water was spewing from the shower head, right onto him. He stepped out of the spray, his eyes wide. "You didn't even have the sense to turn the fuckin' water off?"

She snatched the bottle of shampoo off the rim of the tub, ripped the cap off and dumped the contents on his head, throwing the bottle on the floor.

"What the fuck are you doin!" He barked.

"What you should have done days ago. You're filthy!"

He pushed his hair out of his face. "And you look like a dumb ass in those clothes of yours!"

This wasn't the first time they had tossed barbs like this back and forth but now it was different. He was being mean just for the sake of being mean. This was all his fault. He was the one that was acting different, not her. He was the one that changed everything. And the clothes she was wearing weren't even as bad as some of the others. Just a pair of flannel pajamas. "Really?" She barked.

He glared.

She felt that anger spike again. "Fine," she snapped. Her fingers quickly undid the buttons on the shirt. His eyes grew large and she thought for sure that he was about to claw a hole through the shower and escape. She had a tank top on under her top. If not she wouldn't have ever done that just to get a rise out of him.

He seemed relieved when she threw the shirt at him and he saw that she had another one on. That was the last straw. "You know, if you're so repulsed by me why in the hell are you acting so upset that I want to move out?"

"Get out," he grumbled.

She gave him one more withering look before she left the room, slamming the door as hard as she could on her way out. This had ended horribly. She didn't think that they would be able to salvage anything after this. He acted like she made him sick and she couldn't help but take it personally. He was a little distant with everyone, he always had been, but not her. Not like this. It hurt because what she said was the truth. His friendship was probably the most important thing in her life and it all seemed to be fading away like they never cared about each other at all.

She started going through her drawers, tossing odds and ends into her bag. She didn't want to stay here tonight. She didn't want to see him for a while. She definitely didn't want to see him again tonight. She felt something wet on her face and went to swipe it away. She realized it was tears and she looked up in the mirror in dismay. This was just perfect. She shook her head, angry at herself for letting things get to her so badly. She was a lot tougher than she had been before but when something hurt, it hurt. She still felt everything just as much as she ever had, but she dealt with things differently. Apparently not this because all she wanted to do was cry like some stupid sap.

She took a few long moments to compose herself before she finally stepped out into the hall. She hurried towards the living room, and the front door beyond but suddenly the bathroom door opened up and Daryl slammed right into her.

"I thought you went to bed," he said, gripping the towel that was wrapped securely around his waist. She would have laughed at him if she didn't feel like slapping him at the moment. He finally seemed to see that she was carrying a bag. He seemed to forget that he was standing there in almost nothing, his face growing angry again. Angry until he met her eyes.

She blinked and then swiped at her cheeks quickly but it was too late. He saw the traitorous tears and his eyes went from hard to almost frantic instantly. He was so taken aback by her unexpected emotions that he almost let go of the towel, looked down, flushed deeply and then cursed.

"Can you just give me a goddamn minute?" He asked, not sounding angry anymore.

She forced a smile and shook her head. "I think the best thing is to just go, Daryl. I hate this. This isn't us. I miss us." She knew that it was bad when him in a towel wasn't distracting her from her troubles.

"Where the hell are you gonna go?"

She shrugged, feeling more tears pool at the corners of her eyes and hating them viciously. She was done talking. She just needed to get the hell away from him. Away from the stunted, forced conversations and the avoidance. She couldn't stand it even for one more night.

He cursed under his breath as she walked past him, careful to not touch him in the narrow hallway. She didn't get past him before he reached out and grabbed the strap to her bag, pulling it down and holding it away from her. He clung to the towel with his other hand. "You're gonna fuckin' give me a minute."

"Give me the bag," she said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

He shook his head so she tried to make a grab for it but he turned his body and held the bag away from her.

"Daryl, why the hell are you doing this? You don't want me here. Stop pretending like this is some sort of tragic thing."

He slung the bag behind him, down the hall. "I never said I didn't want you here." He was trying to keep his voice even and she knew it.

"Actions speak louder than words, you know. You act like you can't stand me. You act like..." She shook her head and wiped at her eyes again.

"Why the fuck are you makin' me do this now?" He growled, eyes flashing.

She frowned. "I'm not making you do anything. I just want to go. I want things to go back to how they were before we got here."

He shook his head. "But I don't."

She blinked in surprise, her heart sinking. What could she have done that made him feel this way about her now? She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Okay. I understand."

He shook his head, his eyes darting around the hallway like he wanted to escape. "No you don't."

"Things change, Daryl. People can't help it," she said, trying to reassure him. He didn't look to happy though. "It's okay."

He let go of the towel with one hand and ran it through his hair angrily. "Why the hell couldn't we do this when I had clothes on?"

She would have laughed under other circumstances. She just didn't feel like laughing now. "I'm not sure what your wardrobe has to do with me leaving."

He met her eyes and she was surprised at the turmoil swimming in his. She had seen him under many different circumstances but had never seen him look like this. There was a mixture of fear, anger, uncertainty. She didn't understand the look, and she knew his looks by now. Every one of them. But this was different. He was having a silent battle with himself.

"It's okay, really." She said, smiling softly even though she didn't feel like smiling at all. She made a move to walk past him again to retrieve the bag he had thrown down the hall but he grabbed her wrist hard. She looked up sharply.

He was still watching her, his eyes guarded now. The grip he had on her was almost painful but she knew that his intentions weren't to hurt her. There was something going on with him. Something she didn't understand but felt that he desperately wanted her too. He swallowed hard and she could see the artery jumping erratically in his neck. With a muttered curse he stepped past her, through the open doorway to his bedroom, dragging her along with him.

She was too stunned to fight him and far too curious to even want to. The room was darker than the hallway, the meager light from the living room was too weak to chase away the shadows here. "What is it?" She asked, taking note of the fact that he hadn't loosened his grip on her and his breathing was starting to grow erratic.

"You can't leave, alright. Can I just say that and then you actually listen for once?"

She shook her head. "I can't stay here in this house, looking at you every day and missing you like I haven't seen you in months. It's too hard and I'm not doing it anymore."

He huffed out a breath. "Goddamn it," he muttered. "Why the fuck can't you just give me more time?" His voice was nearly shaking with nervousness. She didn't make him nervous so she didn't understand it.

She sighed. "Time to what? You know, you're making this much harder than it has to be. It isn't like we're getting divorced." She tried to laugh off the tense situation but he apparently didn't think that was very funny because his lips didn't even twitch. It was hard to see his eyes in the shadowy room but she could tell that he still had that look.

"Stay, okay," he said after a few more silent moments.

He was making no sense. "Why?" She asked, tired of dancing around the issues here. "What difference would it make if I was here or not? Why is this such a big deal?"

"Cause it is a big deal," he growled, clearly annoyed with her all over again. He finally loosened his grip on her wrist, for which she was grateful because it was actually starting to hurt. He didn't let go of her though. Instead his hand slid down to hers, shaking slightly.

Realization dawned on her then. It slapped her right in the face, hard enough to jar her. He was scared. He was scared because he'd spent all this time pulling back because he was afraid of his own emotions and now she wasn't giving him any more chances to pull away. He thought he had to act but he was terrified. Of what, she wasn't sure. Rejection? Surely not. Surely he knew how much he meant to her and surely he knew that she wouldn't hurt him. She couldn't hurt him. She hoped that she wasn't reading this wrong. Now her own pulse was racing as she became acutely aware that she was standing in his bedroom, in the dark, his hand in hers and he wasn't actually wearing anything at all.

"Just say what you need to say, Daryl."

He shook his head, took a deep breath and stepped closer, his hand tightening painfully around her fingers. He was nervous. She was too. "I don't know how the hell to do this," he grumbled, shaking his head again.

She understood. She didn't know how to do this either but somehow she knew that she wasn't as emotionally fragile as he was. She had been hurt but not like he had. He had been tormented. It was what made him who he was. His life's experience had taught him that it was those closest to you that would hurt you the most. It explained why he pulled back so far. Explained why he started fights and had started avoiding her. On the road, and even at the prison, there was always far too much going on for anyone to relax and actually contemplate things like feelings. He had time to do that here. That's why he was gone so often. Out there he had no choice but to keep his mind on surviving. Here, he had to feel and he hated it. He probably resented her for it. And if she was wrong about it then she was going to regret the hell out of it because she wanted to just put him out of his misery right there.

She pulled her hand away from his grip and then pushed his wet hair out of his face.

He let go of a heavy breath. "Fuck it," he muttered as he gripped the back of her head and pulled her forward. His lips barely grazed hers, dry and chaste, but it had her eyes growing wide. He pulled back instantly. She hadn't even had a chance to kiss him back. He was so tense, so wound up that she was wracking her brain to think of something to say to lesson that tension.

"So you've been so mean to me lately because you... like me?" She asked, hoping that teasing him didn't cause him to shove her out of his room. She felt the air clear slightly as he seemed to relax.

"Not exactly," he muttered. She could swear that she could feel the flush on his face from where she was standing but she wasn't getting the vibe from him that he wanted to bolt out the door.

"Well, what exactly?" She asked, choosing her words very wisely and forcing her heart to stop pounding so hard in her chest. She was trying to force her hands to stop shaking.

"I'm not doin' this naked. Get out for a minute," he said gruffly.

She shook her head. "No, I'm going to stand right here until you explain why you've been acting the way you have and then you're going to explain why you just kissed me."

"Well, I ain't sayin' anything else till you give me a chance to get some clothes on," he countered.

She shook her head. "Well, then can I kiss you back before we end up just standing in this room all night? Because I'm not leaving."

He tensed again but she stepped into him, leaving no space between them at all. He didn't step away. Of course, he didn't grab her and throw her on the bed so he could have his way with her either, but him not moving was a good sign. I very good sign. She placed her hands flat on his chest and willed herself to move slow. He was like a feral cat. One wrong move on her part would send him into a hissing fit and she knew it. But it was hard. So hard because after touching him, she realized how goddamn badly she had been wanting to touch him for a very long time. She was just never masochistic enough to admit it to herself. His heart thundered under her palm, his breath coming a little faster just at that simple touch. Her body responded, knowing that there was an animal trapped in there and she was dancing with it.

Her lips pressed against his, lingering until his finally softened. She trailed her hands over his shoulders and then wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his wet hair. Meanwhile he was barely responsive. She pulled back just a little, searching his eyes in the dim light. "Do you have any idea how much I care about you?"

A hard swallow and a nod was all she got in response.

"Then you know that I wouldn't ever do anything to compromise that? You have to stop putting walls up. Please..."

He surprised her then, his arm going around her waist and lips meeting hers again, only this time she was surprised at how much of himself he put into it. Her lips parted and then she was tasting him as his tongue coaxed hers into responding. She was completely stunned. Daryl Dixon was actually one hell of a kisser. She wasn't sure if she'd ever been kissed like this in her life but she matched his intensity with her own, her body coming alive with sensation that had lay dormant for a long long time.

This was much better than fighting with him. This was even better than the easy teasing they used to enjoy. This was absolutely the best thing that had happened to her in forever. His hands slid from her waist to her hips and a low rumble started in his chest that sent a hot thread of electricity up her spine, that heat spreading out like it was a part of the blood that was pumping too quickly through her veins.

He pulled his head back, breaking the kiss that had her dizzy and momentarily at a loss for words. "Son of a bitch," he muttered wonderingly.

She couldn't articulate any of the thoughts running through her own mind but her erratic breathing and the obvious tremor in her hands had to tell him something.

"I didn't know how to deal with this, alright. So I've been an ass." His fingers were digging into her flesh.

She nodded. "I understand."

"I don't think you do," he whispered. "I'm scared that as soon as I let myself feel this, somethin' is gonna happen. Just like it happened at the prison, twice. You disappeared and I was left tryin' to pick up all the goddamn pieces. I don't think I can do that."

"What are you saying?" She asked.

He didn't hesitate this time and it was more shocking to her than anything else that had happened so far. "I love you, and it freaks me the fuck out cause it's all I can ever think about when I'm here."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "And now you know how I've been feeling for a long long time now."

He finally relaxed, his rigid muscles finally loosening up. "Yeah?"

She nodded, rolling her yes even though he probably couldn't see her. "Yes. Since the farm. And if I could love you through that, I think I could love you through anything. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

He loosened his grip on her hips and stepped away slightly. Unfortunately for her, the towel stayed in place without him holding it up. "Well, now that you know what's been going on can you let me get my clothes on?"

"You can't kiss me like that and then put your clothes back on," she said, not joking at all.

"Kiss you like what?"

She gestured wildly, "You know very well like what. You and your... tongue. Doing things like that and then telling me to get out."

Even in the dark she could see how red his face became but he seemed to push through his shocked embarrassment and laughed. Laughed at her! "I didn't do anything."

"Oh, you did plenty."

"No shit?" He seemed genuinely surprised at this, his wide eyes catching the faint light.

"Oh my God, you're impossib-" She didn't get to finish her sentence because his lips were on hers again. This time he reached out with his foot, catching the door and kicking it closed before he started backing towards the center of the room where she knew his bed was. He tugged her shirt up quickly and then boldly pulled it over her head, tossing it somewhere into the deeper shadows of the room. She had been ready for bed, in her pajamas, so there was no bra. As soon as her shirt was gone his hands skimmed up her ribs but stopped just below her breast.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and started working her pants down her hips. He paused then, "You sure you wanna do this?"

She scoffed and grabbed his wrists, urging him to keep going. He didn't need anymore confirmation than that. As soon as she stepped out of her pants his mouth was on her breasts and she gasped as his boldness surprised her again. He was a biter, which she wasn't surprised at that at all, but after every nip his tongue would run over the delicate skin, soothing away the sting. He pulled her until she had no choice but to straddle his hips and it was that exact moment that she realized that she, Carol Peletier, was about to have sex with Daryl Dixon. Her mind wasn't as quick as her body was, obviously.

She grabbed the sides of his head, pulling him back up to her mouth. This time when he kissed her it was full of promise. And still that stupid towel was wrapped securely around his hips. Her hands slid down his stomach and tried to pull it open but it held firm. She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and then he laughed again. She pulled back, glaring but then she yelled in surprise when he grabbed her and flipped her easily onto her back.

He braced himself on his arms and lifted his hips, giving her the go ahead to finally rid him of the stupid towel. She threw it as far as she could and then he settled between her legs. The time for hesitation was apparently over because his teeth sank into the delicate skin of her throat just as he sank into her in one fluid motion.

For a moment they both froze, he cursed, she gasped in shock, in the dim light their eyes met and she felt her heart swell with emotion and fear. Fear because she understood why he had kept himself away so much. Because she realized then that if something ever happened to him, she may not be able to keep pushing through. He was her only hope in an otherwise very hopeless place.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice barely a breath.

She nodded, pushing his hair out of his face and smiling.

"You finally get it now, don't you?" He asked. It was strange how well they read one another. He knew that she understood now but all she could do was nod. He started moving then, and any sad thoughts running through her mind blew away. He filled her so completely that she was finding it extremely hard to catch her breath. He was well endowed and it had been a very long time since she had been with a man. For a long time, even before the world ended, her and Ed didn't even share a bed, and even before that the dreadful man had no clue how to please a woman.

Daryl wasn't like that. He paid attention to her reaction to every slight move he made, quickly finding a rhythm that had her drowning in sensations she had forgotten she could feel. It wasn't that he was some kind of flawless sex God. That wasn't the case. It was simply because she knew that making her feel these things was important to him and knowing he would go out of his way for her made it just that much better. And then something very strange happened. Well, strange for her anyway.

She felt it building deep insides of her, a feeling so foreign that she wasn't even sure what it was at first because it had been a very long time since she had felt it, and she had never felt it by simply having sex with a man. Her nails bit into his broad shoulders and like he could sense a shift in her, he quickened his pace and the force of his thrusts. There was no more slow build after that. The pleasure seemed to explode inside her, radiating through every nerve of her body. His name tore out of her throat, her legs wrapping around his waist. He cursed and then dropped his head and kissing her hard, cutting of a loud cry.

"You're gonna have every walker in the state tryin' to climb the walls," he muttered, shushing her.

She clamped her mouth shut and tried to ride out the incredible high in silence but it didn't seem to be tapering off and then he was cursing, his forehead hitting hers hard. She could feel him swell and then pulse, the heat from his release mingling with her own and driving her further into oblivion. When it was finally over and she unwound her legs from around him her body still shuddered with aftershocks.

He rolled off of her after a few long moments, landing heavily on his back. She stared up at the ceiling without seeing, working on catching her breath, and stilling the emotions that were causing her to actually feel dizzy. Had that really just happened? And before that, had he actually admitted that he loved her?

"Stop," he muttered, yanking the sheet up to his waist.

She turned her head. "Stop what?"

He didn't say anything else for a while. He just folded his arms under the pillow and looked up at the ceiling like she had been doing. "You were really gonna go, weren't you?"

She felt awkward now so she grabbed the sheet and pulled it up so she wasn't just lying naked in his bed. "I thought that's what you wanted," she said quietly.

He snorted. "You're so dramatic."

She raised her head, shooting him a look that she knew he couldn't really see but he would know it was there. "Really? After how you've acted you're going to lay there and call me dramatic?"

He groaned. "Yeah. I am."

"I was not leaving to be dramatic. I was leaving beca-" Her voice cut off when his hand snaked out lightning fast, grabbing her and hauling her on top of him. She was stunned for a second and then got her bearings, bracing her hands on his chest and raising up. "Don't think you can just get away with starting a fight and then distracting me with-"

He pulled her face down, cutting off her words when he kissed her deeply. She melted against him forgetting what it was that she was about to say. Especially when his hands trailed down her sides and then gripped her hips firmly. "You know, if I knew this was all I had to do to shut you up I would have probably brought this up as soon as we got here," he said with a laugh.

She raised back up, her eyes narrowing. She opened her mouth to say something back but he shifted then, holding on to her until he sunk into her once more. Her breath exploded from her lungs and she braced herself over him again. She was surprised he had recuperated so quickly but she definitely wasn't going to complain. She would argue with him later, once she was able to remember what it was she was going to argue with him about in the first place.

Later proved to be too late, however and she fell into an exhausted sleep with his arms around her and the solid wall of his chest pressed against her back. Tomorrow would surely bring with it another trial, but it wasn't anything that they wouldn't be able to work through. She knew that he loved her and that was what mattered the most. The rest? The rest would be easy. For them anyway.


End file.
